Blood Status
by Georgiaish
Summary: Snape looks into the Mirror of Erised and muses on the biggest mistake of his life.


**Snape looks into the Mirror of Erised, what does he see? Part of my Mirror of Erised series. This is being re-posted as I've deleted the muliti-chapter story that it previously belonged in.**

**Disclaimer - I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter; they all belong to thier respective owner.**

**Enjoy!**

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He had seen the mirror twice before and both times it had shown him the same thing. Absence does make the heart grow fonder, after all.

The first time had been during the Christmas holiday of his seventh year, when there had been few people around and it had shown Lily Evans punching, _physically punching, _James Potter in the mouth before running into the arms of his gaping reflection.

The second time, only a few years after the first, had shown Lily simply stood beside him, her hand softly in his, her face radiant with the life Potter had stolen from her.

And now here he was, on Dumbledore's orders, with the mirror again. He considered it an old friend, of sorts; a friend with whom he can reconcile with the past, mourn the present and fear the future.

He walked hesitantly up to the mirror, his footsteps echoing off abandoned walls of the abandoned classroom, and caressed the top corner of the frame, tracing the familiar words. He didn't doubt what the mirror would show him; his heart's deepest desire hadn't changed and he doubted it ever would. Hesitantly, after glancing around the room for any signs of intrusion, he looked into the mirror.

He was unsurprised when a blur in the glass began to materialise beside his reflection. He watched it, much like someone would watch clouds in the sky; void of any emotion yet unable to look away.

The blur took shape and he almost smirked at his predictability. She must have been taken straight from his mind; the same bright auburn hair that tumbled past her shoulders and her eyes – _her eyes _- the same piercing green that burned in his mind; the first thing that flashed before him in the morning and the last thing to fade from his vision at night. Her soft features were exactly how he remembered, eleven years after seeing them; fair skin brushed beautifully with light freckles that dusted her cheeks and bridge of her nose, same vibrant lips that seemed to always be in pouted.

She was wearing her graduation robes and with a pang of regret he remembered it had been the last thing he saw her wearing alive.

She looked so radiant that even Snape's gaunt reflection seemed to shine beside her, creating the illusion that they were still teenagers, best friends with their lives ahead of them.

They were meant to spend their lives together.

Snape watched senselessly as his deepest desire was painted beside him, her eyes as bright as they had been in life, not dull and lifeless as they had been the last time he looked into them.

He stood as still as a statue as he watched her take the hand of his reflection, as though the smallest movement would cause her to be taken from him. Again.

Lily bought Snape's hand to her lips and placed a soft kiss in his palm, before resting her hand against his hand. He did not risk looking down; he knew his hand would be in its rightful position; resting limply against his side.

How he willed his reflection to snap his hand away, to end his torture but it did not. Snape watched silently, blood pounding in his ears as his reflection pulled Lily closer until the pair was embracing, Snape trailing kisses up the side of her face as she sighed contentedly.

He felt warmth trailing down his cheeks and the ache in his chest grow as he watched Lily dry away the tears on his reflection's face; tears that he hadn't shed since the anniversary of her death. Trembling, he raised his hand to the glass, feeling a wave of cool throughout his body extinguishing the anger that burned inside him, leaving him with an empty feeling.

The pair he looked at were smiling, which in itself was odd; he couldn't remember the last time he actually _smiled. _He smirked more often than was necessary, but never smiled. To see himself looking so happy made his heart ache with longing and envy.

Suddenly, they began to change and Snape watched as his reflection's long robes became shorter and his hair tidy and smooth, though not with its normal grease. He groaned almost inaudibly as Lily's graduation robes lightened and transformed into a long dress of white satin, tinged with delicate lace. He felt like an intruder watching in on an intimate scene as the two meant in a tender kiss and silently exchanged rings.

He longed to look away. But he clung to the moment, the image of Lily as his wife like a lifeline. He was so wrapped up her eyes that he scarcely noticed another from blurring into life beside his reflection's shin.

She had her mother's eyes.

Outstanding green the colour of emeralds and the exact shade of _hers._ The same hair too, thin and long and remarkably red that was done up in bunches. He contemplated not taking in the finer details of the young girl's face, to look away, to run away and forget this whole experience.

But something stopped him and he let his eyes flicker from Lily to the child. He could now see features of himself in her; her lips and smile but thankfully not nose.

He looked at the family portrait; himself stood proudly with one arm around his wife and the other holding the hand of his young daughter; Lily, looking happier than he ever remembered her looking with Potter, both arms holding a small bundle close to her chest; and the oldest child beaming the way children do at her father.

If only he hadn't called her mudblood, he would never have destroyed their friendship and she wouldn't have grown to hate him.

If only he had known what the prophecy had meant, he would sooner have died than given its content away.

If only she wasn't dead.

"Lily…" he murmured before snapping his hand away from the cool glass as though it had been scolded. He remembered screaming and sobbing the night happiness was lost, his voice hoarse as he rocked her lifeless body, as beautiful in death as it had been in life. For the first time since then he wanted to scream; scream for his love lost; for the family he could never have and for the impossible task bestowed upon him.

He turned on his heel and headed straight from the room, eyes dry and burning.

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